Serpents Rising

by David A. Poulsen

  Cobb took the bowl of soup I offered and set it down in front of Jay. “Do you have any idea who ran the house you were buying your drugs from, Jay? Who Stick and the other guys were working for?”

  “I heard some biker dudes. But I didn’t really know. Didn’t really care.”

  Cobb looked at Jay for a long time, like he was trying to figure out how anybody could be that stupid. “Ever hear of the MFs, Jay?”

  Jay took a bite of sandwich, chewed for a while, then nodded. “Heard of ’em. Don’t know much about them, I guess.”

  Virginia came back with the coffee. Again I did some passing and all three of us were busy for a few seconds, doctoring our coffee. Jay dumped enough sugar into his to turn it into syrup. He took a drink and looked up at Cobb.

  “What an asshole.”

  “Who?”

  “My old man.”

  Cobb said, “How about we take a few minutes to eat some soup? That’ll give you time to get some food into you and it’ll give me time to fight off the urge to reach across the table and choke the shit out of you.”

  Jay gave Cobb a what’s-got-your-ass look but didn’t say anything, which was probably for the best. For the next few minutes we ate soup and ham sandwiches.

  It was real obvious, real fast that it had been a while since Jay had eaten much. He wolfed down the soup and two of the sandwiches. Which was a bit of an indicator that maybe he had been clean, at least long enough to develop an appetite.

  I ate a little soup, drank some of the coffee, watched Jay take on fuel and looked at Cobb a couple of times. It was hard to know what he was thinking.

  As the pace of the food frenzy slowed, Jay looked over at me, stared for a long minute.

  “You a private detective too?”

  I shook my head. “Freelance writer. I’ve been helping Cobb try to track you down.”

  “Guess you both failed, huh?”

  “Guess so,” I said.

  Cobb set his coffee cup down. “Where’d you get the pickup?”

  “What?”

  “The truck you were driving. Where’d you get it?”

  “I borrowed it.”

  “The owner know you borrowed it?”

  “Roland Nill,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Roland Nill, that’s who owns the truck.”

  “Oh … yeah.”

  Cobb said, “Mr. Nill, he know you borrowed his truck?”

  Jay shrugged. “Maybe not.”

  “So you stole it.”

  “That’s harsh, man,” Jay said.

  “Yeah, why don’t you tell us about it.”

  “I got the word that a couple of dudes had been asking about me. Two guys driving a black Jeep. I was keeping my eye out for you. I saw you park in front of that biker restaurant. I wasn’t sure you were the right guys but I figured I’d hang around, get a look at you at least. Then this guy comes along in the pickup, and he’s got this really young chick with him — like a teenager. They park and get out of the truck, head off down the street, probably to a bar or a restaurant. Foreplay.” Jay grinned and took a bite out of a third sandwich. “I guess the guy’s so horny he leaves the key in the ignition. So I get in and start it just to warm up for a while — I figured I could run for it when the guy came back. Then you came out of the restaurant and I figured what the hey, let’s go for a spin and see what happens.”

  “Which brings us to here and now.”

  Jay glanced at me. “So you gonna write a book about this? One of those behind-the-scenes real life things?”

  “I hadn’t planned on it, no.”

  “Whatever.” He looked at Cobb. “My ex-girlfriend, Zoe, I heard she’s gone from the place she was living at. You know anything about that?”

  Cobb shook his head. “How would it be if I asked the questions?”

  “Ex-girlfriend?” I repeated.

  “Well … yeah, we sort of … broke up.”

  “When was that, Jay?”

  He glared at me, sat up straighter. “What’s it to you anyway?”

  “It wasn’t that long ago, your ex-girlfriend was spending her nights in a below freezing dump hoping you might show up. Didn’t seem to know anything about how you two had broken up. Maybe you failed to mention that to her.”

  “What the fuck’s it to you?”

  I turned, grabbed him by the collar, and jerked him up and toward me. He felt like he weighed maybe ninety pounds. “Listen you little piece of shit —”

  Cobb reached across the table, put a big hand on my shoulder. “Easy, Adam. Easy.”

  He said it in a low, soft voice but it was enough. I pushed Jay Blevins back to where he’d been sitting, my knuckles grazing his chin as I did. Not all that accidentally. Jay busied himself spinning the uneaten crust from one of his sandwiches around on his plate. Sulking.

  “Jay,” Cobb said, “you know about Owen Harkness?”

  He looked up. “What about Owen?”

  Cobb looked at him for several seconds. “You don’t know?”

  “What is this, a little kid game? What about Owen?”

  “He’s dead.”

  I watched Jay take it in. And for a minute I thought he was going to pass out or throw up. Or both. What he did instead was start to cry. Not loud and not tears streaming down his face but he was crying. And if I was a betting man, I’d have bet it was sincere. It was the first time I felt anything like sympathy for him.

  “What … what happened? OD?

  “No, Owen didn’t overdose,” Cobb said. “Somebody took him out with a knife.”

  Jay took in air. Looked at Cobb, then me, then the ceiling.

  “Shit, who would do that?”

  “We think it’s the guys that are looking for you.”

  “The MFs.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Goddamn it, man, Owen was all right. He never hurt anybody, you know … he … where did it happen?”

  “In Zoe’s place.”

  For the second time he snapped to attention. “Zoe, is she … okay?”

  “She’s fine.”

  I said. “Not that you need to give a damn now that you’ve broken up with her and all.”

  It was a cheap shot, but I had to get it in. Cobb frowned at me. No anger this time from Jay. He dabbed at his eyes with a napkin, sniffed, and shook his head.

  “I thought she should find somebody else. She was trying to get off the shit and I wasn’t helping her. I was going to break up with her next time I saw her so she could stay clean and maybe get a life.”

  I said, “You thought she should stay clean and get a life but you didn’t think you should do the same thing.”

  “It’s … it’s complicated, man. It’s hard, so hard. You don’t know. Aw, shit, man … Owen.”

  Cobb said, “Sorry about your friend, Jay.”

  Jay looked at him and nodded.

  “Yeah.”

  I said, “Actually, I do know how hard it is, Jay. Not first hand, but I’ve written about guys who’ve got the habit — lots of them. They’ve told me and I’ve seen it. I do know it’s bloody hard.”

  His head was slumped forward and he nodded again.

  “I asked you before. How long have you been clean?”

  He shook his head. “Eight days. Eight fucking days. Not much, is it?”

  “It’s eight days, Jay.”

  Cobb leaned forward, his arms on the table. “We had a meeting with the MFs, the guy who’s the boss. He told us he’d call off his boys … leave you alone.”

  Jay shrugged. “What does that mean?”

  “Good question,” Cobb said. “I think there’s a chance he’s being straight with us, but there’s also a chance that he’s BS-ing. That’s why I think we should play it cool for a while longer.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning we keep you out of sight and safe until we’re sure.”

  Jay didn’t say anything. Pushed his plate away to one side. “I need a smoke.”

  “Sure
,” Cobb said, “but let’s sort this out first, then we’ll go outside and you can have a smoke.”

  “What’s to sort out? I think I’d be better off on my own. They haven’t found me so far. Hell, you couldn’t even find me.”

  I turned so I could look him in the face full on. “You know, Jay, several people told us you’re supposed to be a good guy but so far I haven’t found that at all. Your old man dies because he lost it with the assholes that supply your habit, the man sitting across the table from you spent days and nights on the streets trying to keep your ass from getting carved up like sushi, and there’s a girl who’d rather get pneumonia than miss out on a chance to see you. And yet with all that, this is still just about you, isn’t it?”

  “Nice speech, journalist.”

  I stared at him, wondering what Jill had seen in this kid that I wasn’t seeing. Maybe the withdrawal from the crack was messing him up. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. He wasn’t making it easy.

  Cobb said, “I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to be out there on your own, Jay.”

  “You got a better one?”

  Cobb looked at me. My cue.

  I said, “You know the place called Let the Sunshine Inn? Just off 9th Avenue?”

  Jay nodded. “Jill … I forget her last name. Good lady.”

  “How about I make a call, see if I can get you in?”

  “I’m kind of persona non grata at most of the shelters.”

  “Why is that?”

  “You have to be clean to get into them. And you have to stay clean as long as you’re there. I guess I kind of abused the privilege.”

  “I think Jill would be okay with having you there. Besides … eight days, remember?”

  He smiled a little. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “What about the truck?” I asked.

  Cobb looked at Jay. “The place you left it, that where the guy lives?”

  He shrugged. “One in a million chance.”

  “You leave the key in it?”

  “Yeah, didn’t figure I’d need the truck anymore.”

  Cobb thought for a minute. “The owner will call in a stolen vehicle report. Whoever lives in that house will call the police to say there’s an abandoned vehicle in his driveway. The cops will connect the dots. I think we’ll just let them do that.”

  “I’ll call the shelter,” I said.

  I slid out of the booth and stepped out into the cold of the night. I kept my shivering under control long enough to tap out the number of the shelter. I waited through six rings, thinking I was about to get the answering machine when I heard a tired, unhappy voice on the other end of the line. Celia.

  “Let the Sunshine Inn.”

  Her tone was better suited to a greeting that went Let the Fires of Hell Consume You and All Your Kin. I thought it best not to point that out.

  “Hello, is Jill in this evening?”

  “No.”

  I waited for some kind of follow-up and realized that that was the whole answer. I decided not to pursue my request further.

  I hung up and called the number Jill had written on the back of the business card. Her home number. This time the answer came just after ring number four. It was Jill’s voice, somewhat out of breath.

  “Hello?”

  “Jill, yeah, hi … uh listen, it’s Adam Cullen calling.”

  “Oh, hi, excuse the breathless thing. I just walked in the door and ran for the phone.”

  “No problem. A date, was it?”

  Someone should do a study on why people say really stupid things during those times when they’d most like to say something profound. Or even adequate.

  “Yes, actually.”

  If I’d had a pen in my hand I would have jabbed it a long way into my thigh but luckily I wasn’t carrying anything that would be useful in inflicting self-harm.

  “Sorry … I didn’t mean … uh … that’s great …” I figured if I ever wanted to see this woman again I better get off the small talk in a hurry. “Look, Jill, I’m with Cobb and we’ve got Jay Blevins with us.”

  “You found him! Adam, that’s great.”

  “Well, yeah, sort of. The thing is we need a place to put him up and wondered if there was any room at your place — the shelter, I mean, not your house.” Nervous laugh. Where’s that Goddamn pen?

  “I can meet you at the shelter in a half hour.”

  “We’ll be there. And thanks for this.”

  She didn’t answer, probably thinking there was no need for both of us to sound like idiots.

  When we got to the front door of Let the Sunshine Inn, the lights were on in the main part of the building and the place actually looked welcoming, not an easy task for hundred-year-old bricks and mortar that appeared to have seen only the bare minimum of upkeep and next to no renovations in their tired, decaying history.

  Cobb led the way with Jay walking beside him. I hung back just in case the kid decided to run for it.

  He didn’t. In fact, he seemed almost glad to get to a place where the shower water was hot, the sheets were clean, and the smiles were genuine. Even, by the way, the smile on the face of Celia, who apparently was only unpleasant to detectives and journalists.

  Jill hugged Jay and beamed, first at Cobb, then at me. She turned her attention back to Jay.

  “It’s good to see you.”

  Jay seemed a little uncomfortable — maybe embarrassed. He mumbled something unintelligible. Jill ushered him to a table where coffee and Oreo cookies were laid out alongside a couple of forms and several pens.

  “Just a little paperwork, Jay, it won’t take long. Celia will give you a hand if you need it.”

  Jay nodded and sat at one of the wooden chairs that looked as old as the building. “I’ve done this stuff before.”

  Celia poured coffee for Jay and herself, sat across from him, and nudged the cookies a little closer to him. Jay took one, smiled at her, and picked up one of the pens and began to write. Jill directed Cobb and me to a leather couch that was in surprisingly good shape although there were a couple of places where the original dark brown had been worn away to reveal a kind of cigarette stain shade of yellow-brown.

  “There’s lots of coffee,” she told us.

  Cobb said, “No, thanks.”

  I shook my head. It was difficult to have much of a conversation since the topic we most wanted to discuss was sitting a few feet away.

  I looked over my shoulder at the two people at the table. Jay was bent over, working hard at getting the forms filled in, pausing only to take bites of the Oreo. Celia was watching him, her eyes displaying a warmth I hadn’t seen. I remembered what Jill had told me about some of the people they had to deal with and I decided to adjust my opinion of Celia.

  The front door opened and two people came in: teenagers or early twenties, guy and a girl — neither looked either happy or healthy. Jill stood up, moved to the door to meet them.

  The young man spoke first. “We’ve got no place else, Jill. We just need somewhere to sleep. I swear to God we’re not carrying.”

  “Sorry, Ben. You know the rules. You use while you’re here and you’re out. You have to go through a program to get back in. Both of you. I can give you some places you can go to register for a program.” She stepped back to the desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a sheaf of brochures, one-pagers, and business cards.

  “Come on Jill, for Chrissake,” the kid named Ben’s voice got louder. “It’s winter out there. We could freaking die.”

  “Sorry, Ben, Jewel … that’s something you needed to think about before right now. I’d be happy to pour you a couple of cups of coffee to take with you, but that’s the best I can do.”

  Jay turned to look at the two. “Bro,” Ben said.

  Jay nodded, turned back to the form he was working on.

  “Are you serious?” The edge in Ben’s voice was becoming more pronounced. Cobb leaned forward as if to rise but Jill, sensing rather than seeing him move, held her ha
nd out behind her. The message was clear. She didn’t want help, at least not yet.

  “I am serious, Ben. The steps are detox, program, then here. Get clean and come back, you’ll be welcome. Now, would you like that coffee?”

  “You can stick your coffee up your ass. If we freeze to death, it’s on you.” Ben turned and pulled the girl, Jewel, after him. She looked back over her shoulder as she went out the door but I couldn’t read what was in her face … or her eyes.

  I looked at Jill, who dropped her chin for just a second, then turned back to us. “That’s one of the toughest parts of this job,” she said.

  “Not taking a lot of responsibility for where he’s at in his life, is he?” I wanted to say something that would make her feel better. I wasn’t sure I’d succeeded.

  “There’s a lot of that,” she said.

  Jay looked up. “They aren’t going to die,” he said simply, much better than me at making her feel better.

  “I know,” Jill said softly, “I just wish …”

  A couple of beats of silence.

  “Guess I’m done here,” Jay said pushing the forms toward Celia. “I wouldn’t mind a shower. Bet none of you’d mind if I had one, huh?” He smiled.

  I was finally seeing the Jay Jill had talked about — the kid you could like.

  “There’s towels and everything you need up there.” Celia stood up. “I’ll take you.”

  She started toward the back part of the building, the food bank area, where I’d noticed stairs the last time I’d been here. Jay followed her. He turned back at the doorway into the food bank and looked at Jill.

  “Thanks for the room … and the cookies and stuff.” His eyes flicked to me, then Cobb. “And, uh … yeah … thanks.”

  Celia and Jay disappeared and Jill sat back on the couch. She shrugged her shoulders, not for anyone’s benefit. She seemed in her own world and neither Cobb nor I spoke.

  A couple of minutes passed before she stood up and starting putting coffee things away, needing to be moving.

  Cobb stood too. “I’ll go start the Jeep. I know how you hate a cold vehicle.” He smiled at me and was out the door before I could say anything.

  “This table goes over against that wall,” Jill said and took hold of one side. I moved to the other side and we lifted it to where she’d indicated.